The Mayans assign a color to each of the four directions and one to the center. So the guidebook says.
The color assigned to the center is blue-green.
I imagine an enchanted isle where everything makes sense. I conjure soft breezes, a warm ocean. I wish for a compass that points the way.
I imagine arriving, how comforting it feels. Peaceful, pain-free.
I read on.
The Mayans associate blue-green with priests, death, and sacrifice. They paint sacrificial knives blue-green.
My punctured daydreams deflate, dissipate.
Has the world informed me, again, that death is the one true pain reliever?
© Copyright 2021 by Jim Latham